Split Second
by Mrs DeBris
Summary: A story about Erik arriving in 21st century NYC and meeting a very familiar person...Read and Review!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except Erik I and my wedding ring. That's pretty much all the stuff of extreme value that I have. . .  
  
A/N: This story was inspired by God knows what, but I like it. Excuse my odd ideas of what the backstage of a theatre looks like; truth is I've never been backstage. If you have, I envy you, and flames about that topic will be used to burn the evil book. *glares at The Phantom of Manhattan* But reviewing would be nice.*le hint hint* Reviewers will receive a hug because I like hugs ^-^ Fwee.  
  
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:Prologue:  
  
Death.  
  
A simple word, yet so complex. A word whose effect was about to befall the man broken hearted.  
  
The man.  
  
Yes, the man. The man behind the mask. Erik.  
  
Erik. . .  
  
His own name repeated itself in his mind as he ran his bony fingers over his masterpiece, Don Juan Triumphant. Now, that was all he had. And death. Either was the world, and yet neither was enough.  
  
After three days slaving over the opera, Erik felt immensely tired, something very rare. But his opera was not done, and he would not allow himself to die before it was complete.  
  
Gracefully, Erik climbed into his coffin, used as a bed, and closed his eyes, believing that he could live for one more day. He drifted into a cold and dreamless sleep, breath slow and quiet. One more day, that was all he had to suffer. Then he could be at peace.  
  
But perhaps more than one day. . .and somewhere different. . .only God knew. . . 


	2. Chapter 1 : The Arrival

Disclaimer: Nothing, 'cept a spiffy pencil. *balances it on her nose*  
  
A/N: The prologue and the first chapter (this one) are a tad shorter than the others, so bear with me. I've already written up to chapter four, but suggestions would be helpful in your -reviews-. (Ahem, Ahem.)  
  
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:Chapter 1-The Arrival:  
  
When Erik awoke early next morning, he expected that he would begin composing immediately.  
  
As he soon found, it wasn't that easy.  
  
His eyes opened and scanned an unfamiliar place, brightly lit with signs upon every patch of wall. He appeared to be sitting on a long, gray bench that lined the sides of the room. Poles stood in various areas, as well as about a foot from the ceiling. If he tilted his head as far as it could backwards, he would be able to see a diagram with lights that ended just under the words '86th Street'. Not many people were inside with him, spare a small group of quiet businessmen, briefcases on their laps and eyes straight ahead.  
  
As he stood, something dropped from his coat. Upon closer examination, he realized that it was a ticket of some sort. To a story entitled 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Phantoms? Operas? An eyebrow quirked as he sat back down, looking at the ticket. It read as follows:  
  
'Majestic Theatre 245 W. 44th St. N.Y.C. The Phantom of the Opera 8:00 PM Fri Aug 8, 2003'  
  
And then, off to a side:  
  
'100.00 Orch J 110'  
  
"Curious," he muttered to himself, placing the ticket back in his pocket. Once he found out where he was and what time he was in (for, surely, this could not have been the 19th century,) he would most certainly have to find out more about this Majestic Theatre.  
  
Before he realized that they were moving, they stopped. Doors opened, and a voice from nowhere began speaking: 'This is a Brooklyn bound Express train. Next stop shall be: 125th street. Thank you,' it ended, and the doors closed. Erik noticed no change, except the one girl that had just entered. She stood before him, her arm encircled around a pole, her eyes buried in a paper titled 'Daily News.'  
  
Obviously, she was different from the others on the 'train', as it was called. First of all, she was a woman. And yet she was wearing pants. Black pants, to be exact, and a black shirt, with the words 'Prima Donna' written in red across the front. Fishnet tights were, oddly enough, on her arms, along with black and red licorice-like bracelets. Deep brown hair with streaks of blood red fell to just below her shoulders, and seemed to be kept back, for now, by some sort of band with two ends stuck in her ears. Sharp blue eyes read the latest news, and her pale face showed a look of slight confusion.  
  
A backpack was slung over one of her shoulders, and two pins decorated it. One being a small, white, circular pin reading 'I ? NY' and the other, a larger pin, with a mask and a rose on it, reading 'The Phantom of the Opera.' Perhaps she knew what this ticket was about.there would be no harm in asking her, in any case.  
  
"Pardon, mademoiselle, could you tell me." he began, standing and tapping her lightly on the shoulder.  
  
As she looked up, removing her headphones and lowering the paper, they both nearly gasped.  
  
For there before them was someone they hadn't seen for a long time.someone who had never been forgotten.  
  
Someone whom they loved. 


	3. Chapter 2 : Realization

Disclaimer: Nothing. And I'm sure that M'sieur Leroux is laughing at me now. . .as is ALW. T.T  
  
A/Ns: Reviews! Reviews! Reviews! ^___^ Thank you -all- for the beautiful reviews. No, the girl is -not- Christine, but perhaps someone else.? *le hinthint* Don't worry, if there is any romance -at all- it'll be E/C. Not saying that there will be, but perhaps. Our 'new edition' to the story is like this -all the time-, other than when she's performing. So, if anyone out there really doesn't like someone to be on sugar highs 24/7, you can shoo. Anyone who likes reading about people with too much blood sugar, stay. I'll stop jabbering now and tell you the story. Read/Review, sil vous plait!  
  
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:Chapter 2-Realization:  
  
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As soon as he looked the girl in the eyes, he knew exactly who she was.  
  
". . .Christine?" he asked, starting at the girl in front of him.  
  
The girl could hardly speak. Tears welled in her eyes as she listened to the man's voice. No, she was not Christine, but she knew who he was and whom he was talking about. She shook her head, choking out a single word.  
  
"Erik?"  
  
Erik nodded, yet if she was not Christine, how did she know his name? Before he knew what was happening, the girl had enveloped him in the largest hug imaginable, almost knocking him over.  
  
"Oh my God," she whispered, standing back up. "It's really Erik!" she wheezed, grasping onto the pole as they began to move again. Then she paused.  
  
"But you're supposed to be dead. . .how'd you get here?" the girl asked quizzically, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
"I do not know, Mademoiselle," he replied, taking out the ticket once again. "But, might you be able to tell me what day, year, and month it is? And where I am?" he asked politely.  
  
"Oh, sure," she said with a grin. "It's 2003, Friday, August eighth, around noon. And you're in New York City. What is that?" she inquired, taking the ticket from his hand. Looking at it for a split second, she blinked in disbelief and looked back up at him. "How in the world did you get this? Oh nevermind, it doesn't matter, I still can't believe. . .Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Diana Thomson. I mean Kali Thomson," she said quickly, extending her free hand.  
  
Erik gave her a slightly odd look, but it wasn't as if he didn't use more than one name during his lifetime. "Pleasure, mademoiselle," he replied, taking her hand and lightly shaking it. Apparently either this girl was very excited of being near him, (the mere thought of that was enough to laugh at,) or she enjoyed speaking quite fast. "Mademoiselle -" he began again, remembering the ticket in his hand, obviously for that night's performance.  
  
"Kali," she said quickly. And, as if reading his mind, she added, "That ticket. . .I know exactly where that is, care for me to take you there? I was actually on my way there myself. . .Just going to check to see if I'll need to do anything tonight." With that said, she unzipped her backpack, placing the newspaper and the headphones inside of it.  
  
Erik nodded slowly, beginning, for some odd reason that even he could not explain, to become slightly comfortable around this young woman. Obviously, she was around twenty-five years of age, but her manner seemed to say that either she was in her late teen years, or that her level of blood sugar had increased tremendously within the past half an hour. And she seemed so familiar. . .perhaps that was where this feeling of comfort came from?  
  
Her voice, of course, resembled nothing of Christine's, it being quite an average pitch for any young person, and not very musical. Yet her face was perfectly recognizable, from her soft eyes to her silky hair - although, Kali's hair was quite straight, and parts of it were apparently colored. But he hadn't heard her sing. . . yet he quite doubted she could reach the beauty of his angel's voice.  
  
"If I may inquire, do you normally go by the name of Kali or the name of Diana?" he asked her, wondering where this other name came from.  
  
"Well, that depends who I'm talking to. My birth name? Kali Thomson. However, my stage name is Diana Thomson. It's quite helpful to have a more common name like Diana, because most people probably wouldn't know how to spell or pronounce Kali. . ." Kali began to reply before the train came to a halt once again. "Oh, how time flies. We're here. Follow me, sil vous plait.," she said, walking off of the train and into a very brightly lit area.  
  
Beginning to walk through the massive crowds of people, Erik was able to catch bits of words on several diagrams, mainly beginning with the word 'Track' and then two numbers. Keeping an almost constant watch on Kali, as if not to lose her, Erik despised being around so many people. But then something else caught his attention. No one was staring at him. How queer, he said to himself, perhaps there are more things to this. . .era than I thought.  
  
Finally, after walking through the tremendous crowds, down many steps and passing many posters, (approximately three of them bearing a mask, a rose, and the words 'The Phantom of the Opera',) Kali finally stopped on a platform. "Well, we'll just have to wait about two minutes for the shuttle to Times Square, then we'll make our way to 44th Street - and the Majestic Theatre." She said the final words as if they were holy; precious words that couldn't be said in any tone louder than a whisper.  
  
Erik looked at her, still mainly stunned at the past events. "Mademoiselle - Kali -," he began as she turned to face him. "Where exactly are we now?" he questioned, glancing around, trying to think of anything he could to fade from the crowds.  
  
"We're in Grand Central, awaiting the shuttle to Times Square. It's a place with a -ton- of bright lights, ads, and the Broadway theatre district. Times Square, I mean, not the shuttle," Kali said with a quick laugh. The shuttle arrived, and the two stepped inside along with many others, luckily getting standing room near the door. "I'm deathly sorry if I'm making you feel rushed," she said quickly, pulling out some object, flipping the cover, closing it again, and slipping it into her pocket. "But I must be at the theatre in seven minutes. . .When we get there, I promise I'll get you some coffee. Or, rather, tea, once I find out if I am to be part of the ensemble or a different role.and break my record of 12:15. . ." her voice trailed, and her eyes scanned the car.  
  
After about two minutes of the ride, the 'shuttle' stopped and Kali led Erik quickly out of the station, and into a very large area full of bright lights. "Damn," he was able to hear Kali mutter as she quickly grabbed his hand and began running across the street. It was quite a funny picture, really, to any person not knowing who they were; a small, young woman dressed in clothing that would definitely not be defined as 'normal', pulling a very tall man in black opera attire, as well as a white mask, across the streets of Times Square.  
  
Passing different theatres and billboards, Erik noticed something that made him, too, curse under his breath. A black billboard with the words 'Remember your first time.' in bright white, along with a mask and a rose, was displayed amidst other billboards for things such as 'Bank cards', 'Swatch watches', and something resembling the object Kali had earlier called a 'Nokia Cell Phone'. Honestly, this publicity for the story of his life was beginning to become quite irritating. . .  
  
"Two minutes!" Kali said, practically throwing Erik into a very long alleyway filled with garbage disposal bins. On the far wall he could see a sign saying that this served as the stage door for three theatres, one being The Majestic. Flinging herself into one of the doors, Kali gasped and straightened up, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that Erik was still behind her. "Have fun?" She asked, a hint of teasing in her voice. "We're here now. . .Let me check to see if anyone's called in. And with that she walked down a hallway, leaving Erik with nothing to do but follow her. Mon Dieu, this shall be a very long journey indeed. . . 


	4. Chapter 3 : Dans Le Thêatre

**_Disclaimer:_** I can finally say I own something! ^_^ I own Kali / Diana. But that's it -.- 

**_A/N:_** Fweeith! Reviews! As I stated before, I've never been anywhere backstage in my –life-. So don't flame me. Reviews, as always, are good. Very good. ~. ^ And, a hat to the people who recognize my name in here. Yes, it's in here. ^-^ Although I won't tell you what it is. =P Major hugs to  Fireblade K'Chona, Opera Ghost Kid, LeLeMusicAngel, La Marionette, BMW, clemmy, Deirdre of the Sorrows, Bubonic Woodchuck, and Mrs. Prouvaire.  Merci! 

**_:Chapter_****_ 3-Dans Le Thêatre:_**

Once inside, Erik could not help but stare around him in amazement. Behind the stage were all sorts of costumes, wigs, props. . .everything unknown yet familiar to him. It almost seemed like what the backstage of his life would be. . ._Ah, yes, _he remembered, _this is the backstage of my life. . .  His eye caught a red leather bound book, the words _Don Juan Triumphant  inscribed_ on it in gold. Bringing his hand to it, he was almost able to pick it up before a very loud gasp was heard. _

"She's –what-?" Kali's unmistakable voice said in a tone of amazement and delight. "But what about. . .oh, I see. Thank you!" she said as the rustling of papers was heard and Kali soon appeared behind Erik. "Juanita's out tonight. . .actually, she'll be out for a while, come to think of it. . .on maternity leave, as of yesterday. Oh, Erik, do you know what this means?" she asked, obviously very excited. Erik shook his head, smirking at the girl's delight behind the mask. "It means that I have been given the role of Christine! Well, until they drag someone out from the tour and replace her. . . Oh, but grandmamma was right, I would be playing the role of Mlle. Daae someday. . ." 

Erik stopped dead and turned around slowly, staring at Kali. "You. . .are Christine? In tonight's performance?" He asked, not believing his ears. Of course, there had to be a Christine in the story of his life, but this small, so un-Christine like girl? Although she looked like Christine's twin, she certainly didn't act like her or even speak like her. "Who exactly were you before you received this role?" He asked intently, wondering more about what she could sing. 

"Oh, I was a swing, you see. I needed to know every female role in the book. . .Before Phantom, I was with the Met and I did their production of La Nozze de Figaro. I played the role of Susanna as well as the understudy for The Countess. Why do you ask?" Kali replied, running her fingers lightly over a long white gown, obviously a wedding dress. It was quite a gorgeous dress indeed, white satin, Erik supposed; suspended from the hanger holding it was a beautiful veil, and Erik could only look away, painful memories forming in his chest. 

The sudden sound of Kali's voice finally made him turn back to look at her. "I promised you something to drink, didn't I? I'm sorry, this way, Monsieur," Kali said, drawing out a key and leading Erik down a dimly lit hallway.  Sliding the key into its lock she opened a door, the name plaque on it reading 'Juanita Kensington'. "Please, have a seat," she said, motioning towards a beige colored couch. "Coffee? Tea?" she inquired, placing the backpack down and the key to the dressing room on a (nearly empty) counter. 

"Tea would be fine, mademoiselle, merci," he replied, sitting in the indicated spot. 

"Right then, I'll be back in a moment," Kali said quickly, walking out of the door.  

Hearing her footsteps become faint, Erik stood and looked around the room. The furniture in it consisted of the beige couch he had been previously sitting on; a few armchairs, a counter (obviously used for makeup and wigs), and a large mirror covering one side of the wall. Around it was a line of electric bulbs, and pictures were scattered around the frame. One of these pictures, Erik noticed, was a picture of Kali, dressed in that gorgeous gown from before and, apparently, receiving a curtain call. 

Dozens of knickknacks were aligned quite neatly in a corner of the porcelain counter, all resembling some sort of freakish being. One seemed to be modeled faintly after him; a tall skeleton being with a death's head. Curiously, the area where the nose should have been was rubbed away.  Picking it up, he examined it, turning it around in his hand. After looking at the base of it, he realized that it was a musical figurine. Twisting the key three times, he held it still and listened to the strange melody echoing off of it. Examining the base again, he noticed the faint words 'The Nightmare Before Christmas – Jack's Lament'. 

"Ah, so you've found our good luck charm," Kali said lightly, appearing in the doorway with two steaming cups in her hands. Handing one to Erik, who had placed the figurine back down on the counter, she half-smiled as the melody finished playing. "Juanita and I loved Jack Skellington…we were quite good friends, you know. Roommates in collage. . .so one day I showed up with that figurine, and as a joke, we both rubbed his 'nose' for good luck. But it was quite frightening. . .that night, her boyfriend, Daniel, proposed, and I was actually able to hit Carlotta's part perfectly. . ." her voice trailed as she shrugged, sitting down. "Since then we've both rubbed his nose every night for good luck. So, M'sieur, how do you like New York?" Kali inquired, reclining in her chair and looking at him cheerfully. 

"Very well indeed, Mademoiselle," Erik replied politely, taking a sip of his tea. "I don't suppose you have some sort of a program or such for this. . .show lying about, do you?" He implied, wondering in the back of his mind why she was so content to be around him. 

"Of course I do!" Kali said, springing up from her seat. Picking up her bag, she unzipped the first pocket and began digging through it. "You wouldn't –believe- what kind of things I have in here," she said over her shoulder, drawing out pens, books, what appeared to be a wad of currency, a stick of gum, the newspaper previously mentioned, three CD cases, a walkman, a strange binder, and finally, an autographed white program in a plastic sleeve, 

"Here," she said, drawing it out of the plastic and handing it to him. "I brought it with me this morning as another good luck charm," she added with a laugh. "To help me break my record. Of the earliest time I've arrived, that is. And it worked. Amazing, isn't it? Anyway, it's signed by Michael Crawford. . .I must have you listen to him at some point. My parents got it for me when they saw Phantom in the '80s. I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for in there. . .unless it's the names of the stars. Their names will be in the playbill tonight, I'm sure. . ." 

Erik flipped through the program, finding exactly what he was looking for. As he scanned the synopsis, he felt Kali's eyes on him and he glanced up. Without saying a word, Kali understood immediately what he was about to say. 

"Of course, Andrew Lloyd Webber skimped the story a bit, but I'm sure that you'll like _most_ of what you see tonight. Trust me, not even _I_ agree with some of the choreography that The Phantom has to do," she told him with a sigh. {{A/N: 'Slick pose', the portcullis in MotN, and how Erik takes off his cloak and hat in the end of the title song. They scare me. Much.}} Glancing down at a small clock resting on the counter amid the knickknacks, Kali had an expression on her face that made one think that she was making a choice about ending the world or not. "It's 12:45 now. . .Rehearsal is in fifteen minutes, and so here's my question for you: would you rather come to rehearsal and watch, or explore the theatre for yourself?" she asked, taking another sip of her tea. 

Erik thought this offer over for a moment, before finally deciding to wander the theatre. "I wouldn't dare interrupt your rehearsal by making your little Christine beside herself with excitement throughout the entire thing," he replied with a hint of teasing. Of course, he was quite shocked at his words. . .he had known this girl for only about forty-five minutes and already he was speaking with her like he would with Nadir? This girl apparently _was_ quite influential. . .

Kali laughed, scribbling something down on a piece of paper and handing it to Erik. "Hand this to someone if they try to kick you out," she told him, picking up the binder and tucking it under her arm. "I trust you'll find your own way around, you seem to be quite acquainted with theatres and the like. Oh, and I do suggest you switch to English, most people here aren't fluent in French like I am," she added. Seeing the look on his face, she sighed, "Yes, we've been speaking together in French, _Monsieur. Rehearsal should be finished in about two and a half hours or so. . .feel free to come and watch," she said with a grin, walking out the door and down the hallway. _


	5. Chapter 4 : Him

**_Disclaimer:_** My ring, my pencil, and Erik I. I also have a duplicate of Erik I named Erik II, but that's it. Other than pocket lint. . .

**_A/N:_** Chapter four! ^^ Merci to my reviewers, and. . .That's all I have to say. 'Cept to review, or else I'll unleash the power of the magical NEEDLE! *holds up a sewing needle* Ooith. o_o Oh yes, and I understand why everyone's against me. . . well, maybe, I don't, but it's hard to explain why I don't like them. It's like my thinking Jean Valjean is an idiot. And I probably shouldn't have said that. *foresees many arguments about JVJ* But don't shoot me, and yes, I 'm odd, concerning my thoughts about either JVJ, the MotN poses, or rose-tinted glasses. I just don't know why I don't like them! *sobs* Review anyway ^-^

**:Chapter**** 4 – "Him": **

Erik watched her disappear down the hall, soon hearing a small 'thud', and then Kali announcing, "I'm up! I'm alright! Aagh, I hit my nose. . ." 

He chuckled slightly, stepping back into the dressing room. Something was different. . . but he couldn't place his finger on what. Stepping towards the mirror, he examined more pictures around the frame. Quite a few of them were Kali and, Erik was guessing, the former Christine. His eyes began to drift towards the other side, but they stopped in the center, staring at themselves in the mirror. 

-That- was what was so different. He was normal . . . or, at least, half of him was. The black, full mask that he was so used to was somehow replaced by a white half one. Two mismatched eyes, one blue, one brown, stared at their own reflection as he slowly and carefully removed the mask. The next sight nearly made him gasp. 

There were scars, of course, but few; in fact, his face was not even a fraction of how gruesome it had been before. And then there was the strikingly odd fact of how perfect and flawless the other side of his face was. Not to mention that he actually possessed a nose. . . 

Replacing the mask with one swift movement, he noticed yet another picture decorating the mirror frame. This one was one of a man, more or less the face of the man. After scrutinizing it for a moment, Erik made an abrupt discovery: he was identical to this picture! {{A/N: The picture I'm referring to is that of MC in the Phantom makeup from _The Complete Phantom of the Opera. And there -is- a reason behind why I chose Erik to look like he does in the ALW version. . .you'll see later ^-^}} _

Deciding to return to the 'backstage of his life', Erik exited the dressing room, turning on his heel and walking towards the prop room.

 Voices wafted through the halls, and Erik could distinctly hear a conversation between Kali and a man, apparently called Josh. 

"So, Josh, what you're saying is. . ."

"What I'm saying, _Diana,_ is that if you pretend that he's me and I'm him, the final scene might go a lot easier for you. Seeing as you can't quite get over your little - how do you say - _obsession_?" 

"Hey! Just because Phillip's character can Punjab your little foppish butt any day doesn't mean that -" 

"Diana! Josh! Good God, stop acting like children. . ." another male voice said in an exasperated tone.

"But I am a child! Remember, I'm the youngest member in this company," Kali replied.

"Hence the pigtails. You see, Michael, I do believe that we have one of the most cheerful Goths with an actor's equity card in this show. Or punk. Or. . .what exactly _are you, Diana?" Josh asked lightly._

"I'm insane," she told him with a grin in her voice. 

By this time, Erik had opened the prop score of _Don Juan Triumphant and was examining the music, keeping his ears on the conversation between the three. Suddenly, another 'thud' was heard, this one so loud and startling that even Erik himself turned to look. _

"What was -that-?!" Kali asked. She too was obviously startled by the sound. 

"The elephant fell on its head. . .again. Alright everyone, let's take it from Carlotta's entrance. . ." Michael replied; the shuffling of feet and moving of props soon heard. 

"We really need to re-weigh that elephant. . . " Kali muttered, moving towards the wings.  {{A/N: *hears crickets chirping* No one gets that. . .ah well, most wouldn't. Don't ask me about the elephant. It's a long and strange story o0}}

Erik, still in the prop room, placed the manuscript back down in its proper place and moved on to the next interesting object: a music box, in the shape of a barrel organ, with a monkey in Persian robes playing the cymbals resting on the top of it. Carefully turning this unfamiliar object over, he noticed that there was no key, rather, a small, square object on the bottom of the music box. As he lightly ran his finger over it, music continued to echo through the walls. 

_"With feasting and dancing and song, _

_tonight in celebration_

_we greet the victorious throng, _

_returned to bring salvation!_

_The trumpets of __Carthage__ resound!_

_Hear, Romans, now and tremble!_

_Hark to our step on the ground!_

_Hear the drums - __Hannibal__ comes!"_

Placing that object down in its original resting place, Erik turned on his heel and walked back out into the hallway, turning right. Beginning to walk, he passed doors, some empty, some with name plaques on them. Apparently, he was walking towards the stage, for the sound was increasing. The chorus stopped for a moment, obviously an interlude for the ballet. A 'bang' was heard, and then a few lines were spoken, one by a young woman, the other by someone whose voice quite resembled that of Mme. Giry's. 

_"You!__ Christine Daaé! Concentrate, girl!_

_Christine.__ . .what's the matter?"_

"Wait a moment! Diana, you're supposed to look like a deer stuck in headlights, not lovey-dovey-googley eyed! Try your entrance again. . ." Michael told her, and the interlude restarted. 

_"You!__ Christine Daaé! Concentrate, girl!_

_Christine.__ . .what's the matter?"_

"Better," Michael muttered, although it was loud enough to be heard by everyone. 

Three men began to speak, two reminding Erik faintly of Monsieur Moncharmin and Monsieur Richard. 

_"Daaé? Curious name. _

_Swedish._

_Any relation to the violinist?_

_His daughter, I believe. Always has her head in the   
clouds, I'm afraid."_

"Looking for something, sir?" A short, plump woman, (reminding Erik more of a dumpling than a human) asked him. Practically obscuring her vision was a pile of clothing, with a pair of ballet shoes topping it off. She kicked one of the nearby doors open with her foot, dropping the clothing on the table and turning to look at Erik. 

"Thank you, madam, but I am just browsing. . ." he began.

"You're not one of those fans, are you?" she asked, suddenly acting quite cautious. "How'd you get in here?"

"I'm an acquaintance of Kal - Diana's," he replied, drawing out the slip of paper and handing it to the woman. 

"Oh yes, Diana, she's a nice girl, isn't she?"  the woman stated, glancing at the paper and handing it back to Erik. "Oh, excuse me, I'm Sarah. Sarah Allmand, the costume lady," she said with a laugh and extending her hand. 

"Erik, Madame. Simply Erik," he told her, shaking her hand for a brief moment. 

"I hope you don't mind my working while we speak. . . I must make sure that everything fits Diana for tonight, not to mention the others. Have you ever seen the show?" Sarah asked, picking up a piece of clothing, glancing at the tag, folding it and setting it aside. 

"No, although I do have a ticket for the performance tonight," Erik replied.

"I see. Ever read the book?" she inquired, this time setting a white ballet costume off to the side along with the shoes. 

Erik stared at her for a few moments. Kali had neglected to mention that there had actually been a _book_ written about him. Resisting from saying that he had basically written the book, Erik simply shook his head. 

"It's a good book. Diana must have it somewhere, if not someone else does. Or you could cross the street to Theatre Circle and buy a copy, if you wish," Sarah remarked, smoothing out a red, gold, and green beaded costume and folding it over her arm. "Will you be watching the rehearsal as well?" she questioned, turning to look at him.  {{A/N: Theatre Circle - best shop in the world ^-^}} 

"Perhaps," Erik said quietly. "What scene are they rehearsing?"

"I believe it's 'Hannibal' now, and then 'Think of Me'. It's Christine's big breakthrough as the new star. Well, I'd better be getting this to her," she replied, motioning to the costume over her arm. "Pleasure meeting you," she added quickly, walking out of the costume room. 

Erik immediately turned around. A clear, perfectly angelic voice wafted through the walls, practically freezing him in his place. Suddenly it stopped, and Erik could hear Kali say to someone, "You're late, Jess." 

"Sorry, long line at Starbucks today. But I did get the coffee," Jess replied. Erik noticed how strange the word 'coffee' sounded. . . more like 'cwa-fee' than 'caw-fee'. 

"Just coffee?" Kali asked quietly, her voice sounding like she was about to die. {{Coffee. . .Eyuck.}} 

"No, Diana, she remembered to get your non-caffeinated frappachino," Josh said in a tired tone. 

"Oh goody. Thanks, Jess," Kali chimed joyfully, as a rustle of paper and cardboard was heard. 

There was a pause between everyone, before a female voice asked, "Where's Phil?" 

"Oh no, not now. . ." Michael remarked, sounding as if he were about to drop dead. 

"He's never this late, " Mme Giry's voice commented. "In fact, he's never late at all." 

A 'thunk' was heard, and then Kali sighed. "Well, this causes a dilemma, doesn't it? We can't have the Phantom of the Opera without the Phantom. And from the look on your face I'm guessing we can't afford to use one of the understudies for lack of the other understudies, and we can't use the swings as a lack of the other swings, and we can't use the emergency standby in case our other Phantom, whoever that may be, has something happen to him. Why do all the males have to be on freaking vacation!?" she exclaimed, almost missing a beeping sound. 

Now, Erik was shadowed in one of the boxes, looking down on a group of mismatched people, either walking or sitting, most of them staring at their nails or at their binders. Kali was prominently sitting on the edge of the stage, her legs dangling over the orchestra pit. Beside her was a handsome young man, with brownish-blond hair and, from what Erik could see, deep brown eyes. He was obviously between his late twenties and early thirties, and Erik had no doubt that this man played Raoul.  

Standing in one of the aisles was a man who looked extremely tired, and about ten times older than he actually was. Faint spots of gray decorated his raven colored hair, which matched his deep eyes. He seemed to be in his forties, but because of the extreme fatigue etched in his features, no one could quite tell. In his left hand rested a red binder, and his right fingertips were drumming the side of it, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. 

As I have stated before, a faint beeping seemed to be issuing from Kali's pocket, and she quickly reached into it and drew out the cell phone Erik had seen an ad for earlier. 

The man in the aisle looked up at Kali, his face stone cold. "That'd better be good, Diana. We have no time." 

Kali stood, making a motion as if to say 'be quiet', and she pressed the phone to her ear. 

"Hello? Yes, it's. . .Oh thank God," she began, putting her hand over the end of the phone closer to her mouth. "It's Phil," she announced to the crowd on and around the stage quietly. 

The man in the aisle gave a sigh of relief, and then demanded, "Why hasn't he gotten here yet?"

Kali uncovered her phone, beginning to speak into it again.  "Michael wants to know where you are. Not to mention the rest of us. . ." she suddenly turned paler than she normally was, and then choked two words out. 

"Y-you. . . what?" 

Michael turned towards the man next to Kali. "Josh, what's happened? Why isn't he here?"

Kali, not hearing any of this, began to speak in a very hurried tone. 

"But. . .But Phil, you just can't. . .yes, I know we have James, but that's about it. . .you -what-?! He's _what?! No, he hasn't gotten here yet, thanks for informing us," she said sarcastically. "It's not that I don't like him, it's just that I can't work next to him. . .Let's think there, Phil, maybe. . .__Michael?. . .No, I don't know who else would be able to. But his voice just. . .isn't. . .well, it isn't the right __timber for Erik. . .yes, your voice is. . .__yes, it is, Phil. . .Fine. Fine, I'll tell Michael. Not too sure he'll be thrilled with it, though. Alright. 'Get well soon'. Oh, and Phil, you'd better follow those orders or else I personally will kill you. 'Bye." With that, she folded the phone over and replaced it back in her pocket.  _

"Just for the record, I hate him," she muttered to Josh. 

"Well? What's wrong?" Michael demanded.   

"Long story short, Phil tripped and broke his ankle on his way here. James was with him, and so he took him to NYU. Now, Phil needs to be in a cast for six weeks and James is on his way here expecting the role," she told them all with a sigh, sitting back on the edge of the stage. 

Michael ran a hand through his hair and groaned. "Great. Well, at least we've got someone to take his place. James will have Phil's part tonight and until one of the others gets back." 

Kali stared at him, her eyes widening with every word. "Obviously, you didn't hear the end of my conversation. I can't work alongside him!" she exclaimed. 

"James is our only choice! And frankly, Diana, I don't care whether you work well alongside him or not. You'll just have to act as if you can. What, do you have any better suggestions? If so, tell us now! Tell us all! I'm sure we'd love to hear from you," Michael replied hotly, closing the binder and resting it at his side.

Now, all attention was focused on Kali. The silence was so stunning that one would be able to hear a pin drop onto one of the heavily cushioned seats. 

Kali's face was much paler than usual, and her eyes went from one person to the other, seeking help. The expression and feeling flowing through her very blood was one that Erik knew all too well - the extreme humiliation and helplessness of standing in front of an entire group of friends or, even, strangers, and having none of them at all willing to help you. Her gaze finally met Michael's before she quietly muttered one word into the floor. "No." 

Michael nodded coldly. "I didn't think so. Now, once James gets here, we'll begin again-" 

"Wait!" Kali interrupted him. 

"_What?!" Michael demanded, his face flaming with rage.  "Care to share some more of your bright ideas?!"_

"Why yes, I do," Kali replied coolly. "In fact, I know someone who could pull off Phil's role perfectly."

"Oh?" Michael scoffed. "And who would that be?"

Kali looked towards the box in which Erik stood and simply motioned towards it. 

"Him." 


	6. Chapter 5 : Auditioning

**_Disclaimer:_** . . . I'll give you Russia if you sue me. Not that I own it or anything. . .then again, I don't own anything except my cuddly winter theatre tickets. BUT YOU DON'T GET THEM! ^-^ Kafwee. 

**_A/N:_** Chappie five. I don't think that there's much more to say. Oh yes, two things. One -- Thank you reviewers! ^-^ And two -- I am quite aware that I'm teetering on the dangerous edge between being a good story and a crappy, Mary-Sue story. Trust me, I'm leaning quite towards the good story option. ^^  Oh, and, sorry for the delay -- I didn't turn my laptop on over vacation, and I do most of my story-writing in school. x3 But don't tell my teachers. o.o 

**:Chapter 5 - Auditioning: **

Michael glanced up at the box and then back at Kali. 

"Him? So now you want the chair to become an actor? Diana, if you say one more word that isn't written down in this binder --" 

"Chair?" Kali asked, whirling back towards the box. 

"DIANA!" Michael fumed. But even as the word was screamed, Kali had hurried offstage and into the wings, Josh on her heels. 

"Diana - Diana wait, just stop!" Josh hissed, catching Kali's wrist and turning her around. 

"What?" Kali asked quickly, glaring at the young man in front of her. 

"Diana, where exactly did you find this person who can nail down Phil's part perfectly?" he demanded, not loosening his grip on her wrist. 

"He's my mother's. . .sister's. . .aunt's. . .great-niece's. . .sister's son. . .twice removed," she replied quickly, trying to pull her hand free. 

"Diana, you don't have a brother." And then, as if realization suddenly dawned on him, Josh raised an eyebrow at her. "You didn't find him on the subway coming here, did you?" 

Kali stayed silent for a moment, not moving. "Could I have my wrist back?" was all she said before finally fighting her way free from his grasp. 

"Oh no. Damnit Diana, I told you about finding people on the subway. They could be totally insane and -" 

"This person isn't. I know that for a fact," she replied smugly before turning. "Of course, it all depends on how you define the word 'insane'. . ." she called over her shoulder as she continued throughout the theatre. 

After first seeing Kali glance towards the box, Erik had immediately stepped back into the shadows. Damn her. He had come to see a performance, not be in one. Although, she was being silly, expecting him to have an entire show memorized before eight P.M. 

Then again, he certainly could do that. 

But, of course, he wouldn't. 

By this time, he had stepped out of the box, retreating down the hallway and not paying attention to where he was going. 

Kali, who was running frantically through the theatre, also not paying attention to where she was running, soon slammed into Erik, tumbling down while attempting to grab his hand. 

"Erik!" she exclaimed, looking up at him from her sprawled out position on the ground. "Oh, Erik, I need your help. Long story short, our actor who plays you broke his leg. . .or ankle. . .or whatever. . .anyway, the other actor who was with him is coming and is expecting the role tonight and, no offence, well, yes, this is offensive. . .I hate his voice. And, well, you're seeing the performance tonight, and you'll be assured that it's just. . .not. . ._you._ Anyway, I'm begging you, please convince Michael that you can step in. . .please!" Kali pleaded, her eyes wide and watching him intently. 

Erik sighed, offering her his gloved hands to help her up. "I already know, Mademoiselle," he replied, pulling her to her feet. "But I'm afraid that I would not be able to learn the part in a few hours. . . it would be quite impossible." He released her hands, aware of raised lines on her wrists, although he said nothing about them.

Kali stared at him, dusting herself off. "But you _are the part," she protested, rubbing her wrists. _

"Yes, but along with the libretto there is also the issue of choreography, costumes, etcetera. . ." Erik replied, elegantly crossing his arms. 

At the word 'costumes', Kali simply raised an eyebrow, looking him square in the eye. 

"You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I kid, mademoiselle?" Erik asked her.

Her reply to this was simply a hand motion. 

"Well, yes, I don't suppose the costume would be a problem," he quickly said, keeping his voice from faltering. The world must be ending now, he was sure of it. This young girl had opposed him -- this young, black-and-fishnet-clad girl had just corrected him. 

"And the choreography is simple," Kali continued, running a hand through her hair. "You're offstage most of the time, anyway." 

Erik simply watched her, his expression non-changing. She was a very stubborn girl, wasn't she? If there was anything that he hated about women, besides their natural curiosity, it was their stubbornness. 

"You should return to rehearsal, mademoiselle," he said to her, the flawless side of his face looking quite insistent. 

"There'd be no point," Kali replied, turning. Suddenly, a small, distant smile appeared on her face, although she was sure Erik couldn't see. Then, she raised her voice to ensure that he could at least hear. "Perhaps I'll come down with a sudden cough," she added, beginning to cough while walking away. 

There would also be no way imaginable that Erik would perform. No way possible. No way -- 

Damnit, he'd have to. 

He began to walk down the hallway, his steps quickening slightly when he heard Kali's voice onstage. 

"I couldn't find him. Pity, too, I could have sworn he was here --" she interrupted herself with a light cough. "But it also seems that I can't possibly perform tonight. You see, my throat --"

But before she could finish, Michael's eyes were past her, looking at a figure standing at the left corner of the stage. The entire cast and crew turned also, but Kali avoided looking, figuring it was James. 

"I heard Mademoiselle Thomson was looking for me," Erik informed them, his gaze keeping on Michael. "I'm afraid I stepped out for a moment. . .was there something you needed?" 

Kali's head quickly snapped towards the corner at the sound of his voice, a look of questioning on her face. 

Erik shifted his gaze towards her, elegantly raising his eyebrow as to ask, 'Is there?'. 

"Oh-oh, well, yes. . .er. . .I'm sure you've heard that that we need an actor for tonight's performance. . .would you- would you mind singing something for Michael?" Kali asked him, her hands clasped together in excited nervousness. 

"May I, monsieur?" Erik inquired of Michael, turning his gaze back to the stage manager. 

"Of-of course," Michael replied, not really prepared for any of this. 

Kali quickly smiled, handing her libretto in a binder to Erik, flipping it open to a song entitled "Music of the Night". {{A/N: What else? ^^}}

Erik took the binder from her, quickly looking over the song before giving Kali a glance that said - in a very elegant, Erik-ish, 19th century way, of course, - "Look out for the Punjab Lasso when this is over." 

Kali, of course, gave him a grin and a slight shrug, retreating to sit on the other side of the stage. 

The rest of the cast and crew also moved aside, and Michael had turned back to his somewhat-normal self. 

"From the beginning of the piece, then," he instructed Erik, making a motion to the performers in the orchestra pit. 

Within three seconds, the instruments had started, Erik had prepared himself to sing, Kali had softly gasped for air, Michael had placed a hand on the arm of a seat, the cast and crew exchanged glances and remarks about the stranger, and Josh had come back onstage, skidding to a halt next to Kali and watching Erik. 

By the time he had finished the first phrase, the entire female audience had 'melted', and the male audience was staring with their mouths half-open. This was, by far, the most perfect voice that they had ever heard. Kali could not have even dreamed how beautiful it was, let alone expect that scale of beauty and perfection. 

When the song was over, and everyone had regained their senses, Kali stood up and began to vigorously applaud. In a moment, the others had followed, and grins broke out on Kali, Michael's, and Josh's faces. 

Once the applause had ended, Michael nodded towards Erik, who was in the process of exchanging some words with Kali, while he handed back her binder. 

"Well?" Kali asked Michael, clutching the binder over her chest in excitement. "Can he?"

"Is it just for this one performance?" Michael asked, looking from Erik to Kali. 

The two exchanged glances, and then both said, "Yes." 

Michael sighed, muttering. "Damn."

Kali's face immediately dropped, and the entire cast and crew stared at Michael. 

"W-what?" Kali asked quietly. 

Michael looked back up at her. "Oh, I was hoping he could somehow stay for longer," he replied, a small smile breaking out on his face. 

Josh looked at him. "You mean. . .?"

"I'm not _that_ crazy, Josh. Of course he can take the role!" Michael exclaimed.

There was silence for a moment, before Kali uttered a sound of extreme joy, grinning from ear to ear at Erik. 

Michael began to jot something down in his binder. "What's your name, sir?" he asked. 

"Erik," Erik replied, and a few of the female chorus members swooned.  

"No 'c'. Just a 'k'," Kali quickly added. Erik simply glanced at her. 

"Well, welcome to the cast, Erik," Michael said, clicking his pen closed. "Even if it is for one day." 


End file.
